Authors: Arlene Kay
“Tommy loved dogs,” Candy said.
“Cats, too.
All animals.”
“No one but old ladies loves those yippy little things,” Rand said. “Ugh! Little
rats,
and their owners dress them up and put those obnoxious photos all over the place. Now your Della is my idea of a real dog. No need to dress her up like a baby.”
I patted his arm. “She thanks you, sir. Now I see the security detail.
Positions, everyone.
It’s show time.”
Richard
Chernikova
and a spate of local celebrities swept into CYBER-MED. After Cap Coleman and I welcomed them, most of our guests vaulted over to the open bar and buffet table.
Chernikova
never moved. His eyes were fixed on the beauteous Candace
Ott
and her most prominent assets.
Poor Meg.
She barely contained her fury at being displaced by a makeup artist. Everything was fine, just as we planned it
,
until
Rand tapped me on the shoulder.
“Miss Elisabeth, may I see you?” His cheeks were mottled, and that spark of Alabama accent was now an inferno.
“Are you ill?” I asked.
He guided me toward his cubicle. “It’s not that. I just heard from Tornado.” Rand gulped a lungful of air. “I don’t understand it. He says he’s got the
Sandman, that
he plans to kill him.”
“What? Lucian, oh my God! Let’s find
Francie
. We need the police.”
Rand clutched my arm. “No. Tony says he’ll kill Lucian if you get the cops. He wants you, you and Ms.
Ott
.
Says he has to explain something.”
He was babbling now, almost hysterical. “Please, ma’am. Don’t push him. You don’t know what
Tony’s
like when he’s angry.”
I thought of Kai’s
Glock
, nestled in my shoulder bag. It was loaded now.
Lethal.
I beckoned Candy with an emphatic wave. After several attempts she eluded
Chernikova
and joined us.
“What’s wrong with you?” she groused. “He was really buying my act.”
“It wasn’t your act he was buying,” I said, nodding toward Rand. “Tell her.”
She listened without ever losing her pleasant smile. It was frozen in place. “OK,” she said when Rand finished, “how do we know he’s really got Lucian?” She turned to me. “Call him, Betts. Then we’ll know for sure.”
I
masked
my fear with a dull monotone. “I already tried. No answer. He told me wherever he’s staying has poor reception. Maybe that’s it.”
We all knew better. Things moved in slow motion as if we were all paralyzed. Candy’s
rictus
grin, Rand’s pasty complexion, my inertia—none of it mattered anymore.
Lucian needed my help.
“Where is he?” I asked. “We can slip away from here without anyone noticing.”
“Watch out,” Candy whispered.
“
Arun
Rao
at six o’clock.”
She threw back her shoulders, giving him a clear view of perfection.
“What’s the matter?”
Arun
asked her. “Trading up these days? I saw you with that lecher. He’s Meg’s property, in case you don’t know it.” He slid his arm around Candy. “Stay close to me. He won’t bother you then.”
“Not now,
Arun
.” Candy said. “Wait ‘til this thing ends.” She checked her watch. “Meet you at my place at ten o’clock, OK?”
Arun
snarled. “It will have to be, won’t it?” He stalked over to the bar and filled up.
“That was close,” Candy sighed. “Maybe we should have told
Arun
.”
Rand’s eyes widened. “Please. We need to do something. I’ll go by myself, if you want. You ladies can stay safe.”
Candy rolled her eyes.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.
You’re dramatizing. Where are we meeting him?”
“Around the block on the waterfront,” Rand said. “It’s faster if we drive. I’ve got a car outside.”
We slipped out the door and into the elevator.
Candy leaned against the door as if her strength was almost gone. “I guess
Tony’s
the murderer,” she said.
“Too bad.
He’s really built.”
I felt the
Glock’s
substantial weight in my purse. I would use it to save Lucian. “He killed Tommy,” I said. “I hope he fries in hell.” We exited the front door under the stern eye of one of
Chernikova’s
security men.
“This way,” Rand said, steering us toward an elderly Lincoln Town Car. His gait was slow and unsteady. “Do you mind driving, Ms.
Ott
? I’m not feeling so well.”
“No problem,” she said, “but this thing feels more like an ocean liner. Ever consider going green, Rand?”
He helped me into the front seat while he sprawled in the back. “Oh, it’s not mine,” he laughed. “A friend loaned it to me. Turn right on Mass. Avenue. Head toward Fan Pier.”
“It’s getting dark. I hope you know where we’re going. Lucian isn’t this far away. He’s much closer to CYBER-MED.” My fear grew with each block.
“Oh, God.
How did Tony find out? We never told anyone, just our little group.”
“That’s a problem,” Rand said.
I felt something cold and hard, pressing into my back through the seat.
“Don’t move, Miss Elisabeth. I’d hate to shoot you.” Rand’s voice wasn’t weak now. It was vibrant, mocking. “Oh, I took the liberty of borrowing your
Glock
.”
Twenty-Eight
I whirled
around, looking for my purse.
“Easy does it,” Rand said, “and don’t try anything funny, Ms.
Ott
, unless you want me to blow a sizable hole in your best friend. Slow down and drive into that warehouse.” He pointed to a cavernous space that looked abandoned.
“What’s going on, Rand? Stop this nonsense.” Candy wasn’t scared. She was angry.
“I’ll take the keys, please, ma’am. You probably figured everything out by now. Right, Mrs. Buckley?”
It wasn’t possible. Affable Rand Lindsay killed my friend? “I don’t understand. Tony had all that money. You didn’t. We checked everyone.”
He scoffed, a high-pitched giggle, actually, just like the sound on the tape.
“Tornado has nothing except tons of debt from those rug rats of his.”
“But his checking account …” I was babbling, trying hard to focus on this new reality.
“I gave you that information, Mrs. Buckley. You trusted me. People always do. It’s the secret to my success. Tommy trusted me, too. That’s why he met with me that night.
Such a nice guy.
So fair.”
He snickered.
“Who poisoned you?” Candy asked.
“Your partner?”
“Forget it, Candy,” I said. “He did it himself. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Agatha Christie used it all the time. Throws suspicion off the murderer.”
Rand clapped his hands. “High marks, Mrs. B., although I might have overdone things a tad. That crap made me really sick.” His air was untroubled, as if we were three old cronies swapping war stories.
“Too bad it didn’t kill you,” Candy spat.
“Bastard!
You and Meg Cahill should both fry in hell.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “but when you two lovely ladies are found asphyxiated in the trunk of
Tony’s
old
junker
,” he spread his hands, “what are we to think? Officer Cohen and Sandman will share your suspicions. They’ll find that fifty thousand in
Tony’s
checking account, too.”
“I thought you said …”
“I did. But that sum was added to his private account this morning.” Rand shrugged. “Hated to part with it, but chalk it up to the cost of doing business. I’ve got plenty more. So does my partner.” There was that hideous simper again.
“Lucian won’t rest until he finds out.” It was cold comfort, but I was certain of that.
“Ah, what a man he is. Sandman showed me how to pull this thing off, you know. He trusted me, too, totally bought my act. He was so obsessed about his brother’s death that he didn’t see the real potential.”
He nuzzled Candy’s neck with the barrel of the
Glock
. “I hope you’re not counting on some last minute rescue, ladies. That only happens in books and bad melodramas. No one comes around here except junkies and whores. They sure as hell won’t help you.”
I refused to give up. There were two of us, after all, and Rand was no physical match for us.
If I could just distract him long enough to get that gun.
Keep him talking, Lizzie Mae.
I said a silent prayer to Kai and Tommy, begging for help. They would understand that I didn’t want to join them now. Not yet.
“Tony knew all about that Mercedes and the lady’s dog pictures. How could he?”
“Yeah,” Candy said, her voice quivering, “unless you told him, you prick.”
“Bingo. I fed Tornado enough information to hang him. Knowing you ladies, I’m sure you shared that tidbit with the divine doctor and Officer Cohen.”
He had an enormous, insatiable ego. I had to play to that.
“Pretty clever, I must admit. But you’re a decent guy, Rand. Why did you do it?”
He shook his head, more in sorrow than anger. “That’s really unworthy of
you,
Mrs. B. Tommy asked the same thing.
Couldn’t understand my motive.
I did it for the obvious reason, money.
Filthy lucre.
My days of begging and scraping for tuition money are long gone. See, I hooked up with Terrell Tate at one of those boring fundraisers. She spent hours telling me about her money-grubbing half-sister and how she wanted her dead.” He gave that warm, familiar grin. “You know how sympathetic people find me. I agreed to check out Mary Alice Tate’s medical info for her. Then one thing led to another and voila, big bucks.”
I stole a look at my watch. It was nine-thirty. The event ended a half-hour ago. At least
Chernikova
had escaped this maniac for now. Besides, Lucian was probably searching for me.
“Do me one favor, Rand. Tell me how you murdered Tommy. Surely you didn’t go over to Wellesley after that woman’s car.”
His face softened for a moment. “You know, I really do like you, Mrs. B. I wish things could be different. OK, if you must know, it was kismet.
Just plain old luck.
After Tommy confronted me, he gave me an option. Turn myself in, or he would. He actually thought I’d do the honorable thing.” Rand hooted at that. “Anyhow, I left a few minutes before him and there it
was,
a miracle. Some stoner drove up in that Mercedes and dumped it keys and all, can you believe it? Well, I put that thing to good use. When Tommy came out, I followed him. Had to get everything right, you know. Then I gunned that sucker and mowed him down.”
I couldn’t stop the tears that stole down my cheeks. I didn’t even try.
“You should have seen his expression right before I hit him. Priceless! He thought he was such hot
shit
, but I showed him.”
Candy was openly weeping now.
For Tommy, not for us.
Not yet.
“But Dr. Cahill.
How did that happen?” I sighed. “No harm in telling us now. Dead men tell no tales, as they say.
Women, too.”
Rand smiled. “Believe it or not, I met my partner through a referral. Terrell Tate. We found that we had mutual interests, shall we say.
Four more at one million per.”
He licked his lips.
“Made good business sense for both of us.”
Candy shivered. “Can’t you turn on the heater? It’s freezing in here.”
“You’ll be glad for the cold when you’re in that trunk.
Won’t be long now.
My partner’s coming to pick me up.” He grinned. “You didn’t think I’d try to handle both of you by myself. Not smart, and as you know, I’m very smart.”
Headlights flashed against the warehouse windows.
“What did I tell you,” Rand smirked. “Ask my partner all those questions about motive. You’ll love the answer.”
We watched a sleek black car drive in. Some foreign make, probably a Lexus. The driver kept the high beams trained on our vehicle. A car door slammed as a figure inched toward us. Rand hauled himself out of the back seat, making a gallant gesture toward his partner.
“Here we go, ladies. Ask away.”
We stared into the fleshy face of Carter Cahill.
I was speechless, frozen with disbelief. Carter Cahill, that bumbling ineffectual fool, was the last person I’d suspected. He shuffled toward us, his face as blank as scrubbed chalkboard.
“Come on, Rand. Let’s get this show on the road.
Meggie
will wonder where I am.”
He didn’t acknowledge us. That bastard acted as if we weren’t even there. I couldn’t take that. I refused.
“So you bankrolled this enterprise,” I said. My voice sounded normal. I was proud of that. “Why bother? They won’t be the last ones, you know. She’s addicted to it.”